


And The Night Is So Long

by Polaris



Series: Blue Sky Blue [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Wakes & Funerals, this is what happens when I watch Volume 2 again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polaris/pseuds/Polaris
Summary: Kraglin always figured he'd go out in a blaze of glory with Yondu. If they couldn't have the colors of Ogord and the horns to mark their passing, they'd light up the universe with a last middle finger and no regrets.It wasn't supposed to just be one of ‘em. Never just one.





	And The Night Is So Long

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping out of chronological order with this one. SUFFER WITH ME!

Kraglin will never stop hating himself for listening to Rocket and taking off. There’ll always be a part of him that wonders if he could've changed things if he'd stuck around on the planet’s surface just a minute more. If he'd been closer.

If he could've saved Yondu.

He's gonna have nightmares about it for the rest of his life, he thinks as he looks down at the body laid out on the table-turned-funeral-pyre. Aleta Ogord always said that dead didn't count until they was warm, so they'd let him thaw. Maybe Pete had been hopeful, but Kraglin knew better. He’s watched too many men die in the void to hold out hope. 

It's only been a day.

That's the weirdest thing. Just yesterday they'd been on Contraxia, whoring and drinking and having fun. How the hell is he supposed to wrap his head around everyone being gone when they were just here yesterday?

His eyes are burning again. Kraglin wipes them angrily. 

He's got a job to do.

None of ‘em had what you might call proper funeral plans. Kraglin always figured he'd go out in a blaze of glory with Yondu. If they couldn't have the colors of Ogord and the horns to mark their passing, they'd light up the universe with a last middle finger and no regrets.

It wasn't supposed to just be one of ‘em. Never just one. 

He wants to close Yondu's eyes, but he's scared to. They fucking iced over out there. Most folks close their eyes in a vacuum, but not his captain. Brave to the end, looking at his son, that's how Yondu went. And now Kraglin can't even close his eyes for him.

His throat tightens up. He quickly reaches for the bucket and cloth and gets to work pouring some water. Yondu's gonna look good for his funeral. It's the least Kraglin can do for him.

It's also, he can admit to himself, the last chance he'll ever have to be alone with the man he shared most of his life with. He'll be the one to strip the body, make sure Yondu's clean and his reds are perfect. No one else needs to see all the captain's scars and soft spots.

Those belong to Kraglin, and he means to have them for himself one last time.

The boots come off first, unlaced with more care than Yondu ever took with them. Kraglin sets them aside to shine and almost breaks when he sees that Yondu's got one of Kraglin's socks on. The other one don't match even a little, and it has a hole in the heel. 

How much of their lives were tangled up together, Kraglin wonders. And what's gonna be left of his when they give Yondu to the flames?

He pulls Yondu's mismatched socks off with a vow to burn his pilfered sock’s mate if he ever finds it. Those go inside the boots as Kraglin sets to work on the coat and outer layers.

Kraglin gives Yondu's clothes a critical eye once they're laid out in front of him. The coat’s gonna need to get cleaned, but the rest are in decent shape. Satisfied, he turns to look down at the body.

It's shocking how small Yondu seems in death. Kraglin's never seen him look anything but big and boisterous and alive.

Well. That ain't precisely true. Last night he'd seen a new side of Yondu. The mass murder was par for the course, but it was the way he'd retreated inside himself while the others were executed that bothered Kraglin then and still bothers him now. Don't take a genius to figure out where his captain picked up that coping mechanism.

A nasty little voice in the back of his head hisses that this is his fault. He ran his mouth and started a mutiny. He piloted the ship too far away to save Yondu. He knew where Peter was and he didn't immediately take off to go get him.

If Kraglin listens to that voice he's liable to jump into the fire after Yondu. It might hurt less than seeing him as a naked corpse with glassy, staring eyes. 

He takes a step forward and lays a hand on Yondu's broad chest, remembering the way his flesh felt warm and alive under Kraglin's hands just a few days ago. If he'd known it'd be the last time he'd have made it better. Might've even said he loved Yondu, although the last time he'd said those words out loud they'd both been drunk enough to blame it on the booze in the morning.

Now Yondu's chest is cool and still, blue flesh already taking a grey tone that'll only get worse. The scars look whiter than they had when Yondu was alive. The skin of Yondu's pouch sags a bit. Kraglin runs his fingers over the line of it, his eyes starting to sting again. A tear makes its way down his cheek, tickling before it vanishes into his beard.

He grabs the bucket before any more have the chance to fall, wringing out the cloth and taking care to wipe away all the dust and grime that Yondu never had the opportunity to shower off. There's grit from the planet, settled into the laugh lines Kraglin loves so much, and blood at the corner of his mouth. Yondu's skin hasn't blackened or popped from exposure, for which Kraglin thanks every god he thought he'd quit believing in. He ain't sure he would've been able to handle that. If it wasn't for the eyes, Yondu might be sleeping. 

Takes awhile, but Kraglin finally decides that Yondu's as clean as he's likely to get. He stands back and looks him over, committing everything to memory. One last look. Then he lets out a bone-deep sigh and starts redressing him. He'll clean the coat last, but now he wants Yondu covered up again, some protective instinct that don't mean shit anymore.

He's just pulled his own sock back onto Yondu's foot when he hears the scrape of a shoe against metal.

The knife’s in his hand before he even thinks about it, and as he spins around he lets it fly, too keyed up from this shit day to stop and think about who might be coming to check on him or why.

He has a split second to panic about it before his brain makes sense of all the blue, and he sees Nebula standing there with the knife embedded in her upraised arm. Her mouth’s hanging open.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, sounding more surprised than anything. “I didn't know you were in here.”

Kraglin sees her eyes skip over him to Yondu's body, and he steps up to block her view. He knows his eyes are red and puffy, and his jumpsuit is stained with water and accumulated grime. He doesn't say anything.

Nebula yanks the knife out of her arm and hands it back to him hilt first. When he just stares at her, she asks baldly, “was he your lover?”

The question shocks Kraglin out of his funk, and he gapes at her. “Lover?” he repeats. It sounds so stupid.

She nods, brows furrowed over her dark eyes. 

“That's...nah.” He shakes his head. “I mean, we was...but don't...” He casts around a bit, and settles on, “that ain't the right word.”

Nebula nods again curtly and glances at Yondu. 

Kraglin wants to scratch her eyes out and he can't figure out why. He just knows he hates her looking at his captain before he's ready. He wants her to leave, but he isn't sure he can make her. “You here for a reason?” he finally asks.

Her eyes snap back to his face. “I needed to get away from them,” she finally mutters. She sounds like a sulky kid. “Gamora keeps watching me like she wants something.”

Her plan to kill her sister clearly didn't work out. Kraglin can't be bothered to care why. “Plenty of other places you can go t’ be alone,” he says pointedly. Yondu's boots still need shining and his coat is dusty. The funeral won't start until Kraglin decides it will, but that don't mean he wants to sit here talking.

Nebula’s peering around him at Yondu again. “...shooting him was a mistake,” she says after a loaded pause. “I see that now.” 

Kraglin sees red. “Fuck you,” he hisses. “You don't know shit. Got your family back now, don’t ya? Worked out okay for you, you ain't alone no more. I knew all those guys since I was sixteen, ya hear me? All of ‘em are gone now, an’ I'm stuck here with fuckin’ Pete-” He catches himself with a sob, shoving a fist in his mouth before he lets that evil thought out. It ain't fair to blame Peter for any of this. He loves the kid, he does, more like a brother than anything else, but everything he shouted at Yondu on Berhart is still true. Yondu always chose Peter. 

He died choosing Peter.

The howl that's been building in his throat since he broke atmo in the Quadrant without Yondu on board finally breaks out. It hurts deep in his chest and once he starts it don't stop, and he's glaring at Nebula the whole time because she shouldn't be here seeing this. He's snarling and growling and he must look unhinged because she takes a step back, wary.

Good. He feels unhinged, like he's gonna fly apart if someone breathes on him wrong. The mind ain't meant to handle this kind of feeling. It's too big and he's lost too much. It'll break him.

This must be how Quill felt after they picked him up. If it is, Kraglin understands now why he was such a miserable little fucker that first year. He's glad he didn't take the knife back from Nebula, because he don't trust himself not to slit his own wrists with it.

A hand closes over his fist. He snaps at it with jagged teeth and bites down on metal. Pain shoots up through his jaw and he jerks back, tasting blood. When he finally sucks in a breath he realizes he bit Nebula. She'd been trying to pull his hand out of his mouth.

It's his own blood he's tasting.

Kraglin stares blearily at his fist, clenched loosely now in Nebula’s hand. There's a nasty gash in the shape of his teeth, blue oozing from his knuckles. 

“Sorry I bit you,” he croaks. “That weren't called for.”

“I'll let it pass this time.” Nebula’s staring intently at his face. Whatever she sees there, it makes her say, “come with me.”

He blinks. “What?”

“You could come with me,” she repeats. “If you don't want to stay here.”

Kraglin can't make sense of it. She don't know him well enough to make that sort of offer. “No.”

Her hand leaves his. “I understand.”

Kraglin doubts that, but he's grateful she isn't gonna push it. He nods, already looking back at Yondu. 

“I'll go now,” says Nebula after a moment. “Gamora promised me a ship, so I doubt I'll see you again.”

“You can stay for the funeral, if ya want,” Kraglin offers hollowly. “Seems like you two was okay with each other by the end.”

His phrasing hits him as soon as it's out of his mouth. The end. The finality of it washes over him and he can't breathe.

“Thank you.” Nebula’s soft reply filters in, and Kraglin remembers to nod. She's paying her respects in her own way.

She's a weird girl, Nebula. The thought sticks to his brain for a second as he watches her walk away. She leaves the knife on the floor by the doorway. He can grab it if he wants.

Kraglin turns back to Yondu. He's still got work to do.

He doesn't really register his choice to stay with Peter until he's brushing down Yondu's coat. It's as he's putting the finishing touches on everything that it occurs to him that he even made the choice. He could've gone with Nebula and left Quill to his new family, the one he abandoned Yondu for. He could've spared himself the pain of seeing Pete’s stupid face everyday and remembering that his beloved captain died for the little asshole.

But Yondu would have wanted them to stick together. He was always foisting the kid off on Kraglin when he was little. At the time Kraglin hated it, but now he wonders if it wasn't Yondu's way of getting them to bond. 

Too late to ask now. Kraglin stares down at Yondu's slack face and wonders how the hell he's supposed to survive this. He's spent his entire adult life as Yondu's first mate, and he ain't too sure who he is with that gone. Maybe sticking with Pete will help. Maybe he'll be dead in a month. 

Hard to care, really.

One thing at a time. He flips the switch on the comm. “Did ya find everything?” 

“Yeah.” Pete’s voice is thick and scratchy. Kraglin ain't the only one breaking down. “We've been ready for awhile.”

Kraglin reaches out to smooth the lapels of Yondu's coat one last time. “Then come up here. It's time.”


End file.
